


Batter Up, Kaspbrak

by KT1



Series: The Losers Club: College Athlete Edition [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: A Baseball Bat, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sports, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Baseball Player Richie Tozier, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, College Athlete Reddie, Fluff and Smut, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gymnast Eddie Kaspbrak, I Want That Twink Obliterated, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Porn with Feelings, Reddie, Resolved Sexual Tension, Richie Tozier Has a Big Dick, Riding, Size Queen Eddie Kaspbrak, The Splits, Top Richie Tozier, We Die Like Men, excessive blushing, excessively calling your crush by their last name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KT1/pseuds/KT1
Summary: Stanford Gymnast Eddie Kaspbrak is just trying to get through one practice at a time and spends more time in the training room getting physical therapy than he does out with friends. His athletic trainer Sam is one of his closest friends at this point. Only she's not just his trainer. She's also the trainer for the baseball team, which means star pitcher Richie Tozier. Eddie has been pining over the baseball hottie for years now, but maybe he will finally get a chance to talk to him after Richie comes to one of Eddie's gymnastics meets.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: The Losers Club: College Athlete Edition [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967692
Comments: 25
Kudos: 249





	Batter Up, Kaspbrak

**Author's Note:**

> As a former collegiate gymnast, this is a completely self indulgent fic about Reddie and the Losers as college athletes. I always had a thing for the baseball boys, and I figured Gymnast!Eddie totally would to. I have shit ankles and also find myself in situations where said ankles do not want to work/hurt excruciatingly so I gave Eddie my problems oops. I also have tragically bad shoulder issues so I gave that little bit to Richie bc gotta share the wealth. Gotta love ruining your body after doing a sport for 20+ years (insert upside down smiley face and finger guns here). 
> 
> They aren’t really in the story but I thought you all should know that I gave all the other Losers sports as well…
> 
> Cross Country/Track star Ben who totally holds conference records/times but is super humble about it  
> Football player Mike who is quarterback (the big man on campus but he’s literally the nicest) and everyone knows and loves him  
> Golfer Stan who is totally on track to go pro and looks great in a crisp white polo  
> Rower Bill (Crew team) who is team captain and is totally the one to call out each row, never stuttering once  
> Volleyball player Bev who is a digger and has totally banged up knees always covered in bruises for it and you know she wears those tiny spandex shorts that make Ben blush every time
> 
> FCs for OCs: Sam- Arden Cho; Alex- Alec Yoder (who is a gymnast irl- see insta- watch some of his gymnastics vids to get an idea of what Eddie does)

Eddie sprints down the vault runway, putting tremendous power behind each step. He flips, hitting the springboard and blocking off of the vault table. He twists and flips, spinning through the air, but it’s not quite enough. He underrotates and lands short, crunching his ankles before falling to his hands and knees. Pain sears through his ankles and shoots up his shins. Eddie winces as he drops his head against the mat. He cringes at himself because these mats are absolutely disgusting, but right now, he doesn’t have the energy to care. The athletic tape on his ankles did very little to save him from the pain of the landing; he is definitely not looking forward to doing another vault after that. 

His teammates grimace as they watch Eddie shakily get to his feet; they totally feel his pain. Been there, done that. Undercutting a vault like that is truly death for the ankles, and it’s not like this is Eddie’s first time… and certainly not his last. 

He limps off to the side to let his next teammate go and hobbles over to his coach. His coach barely bats an eye at the look of discomfort on his face and is ready with a handful of corrections for how he can do better on the next turn. Eddie takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain still shooting through his ankles.  _ This is going to be a long ass practice.  _

……….

Eddie hisses as he climbs up onto the table in the athletic training room to cut off his ankle tape and get checked out by Sam, the athletic trainer for the men’s gymnastics team. When his ankles are free from their prison, he rolls them out, and he can feel how they creak and crack with the movement. 

Eddie has had bad ankles since he was a teenager. As he moved up in the levels and increased the difficulty in his skills, the landings became much harder to control and get just right to be painless. He has needed to tape his ankles for years now in order to stabilize them after numerous sprains and ligament tears. He probably should have had surgery in the past, but his mother would have never allowed it, claiming that it’s too risky and he might never make it off the table (cue eye roll). 

He lays back on the table and throws an arm over his eyes, exhaling sharply as if the pain in his ankles might leave through his lungs. He hears footsteps walk up to the table, and he peeks an eye out from under his arm. He meets the eye of a pretty woman with her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail, wearing a cardinal red polo with the Stanford logo on it. She smiles softly at Eddie before moving down to the end of the table. 

“Hey, Eddie, how are your ankles feeling?” Sam asks, picking up one of his feet to prod at the joint. Eddie just groans in response. “That good, huh?” Sam chuckles, shaking her head and placing Eddie’s foot back down on the table. 

“It feels like loose change in there, Sam. I swear, the only things holding my ankles together during practice are your perfect tape jobs.” Eddie grumbles, popping his head up and leaning back on his elbows.

Sam laughs and grabs the lotion from a cart filled with different tapes and therabands. “Well, I’m glad to be of service then. Flip over. I’ll start on your calves.” 

Eddie flips onto his stomach and tucks his arms under the pillow, resting his head to the side so that the door is in his view. He sighs as Sam works her thumbs into his calves, digging into the muscle to try and release the tension there. Since his ankles are so bad, his calves and Achilles tendons are extra tight, and he needs to get them rubbed out almost every day to prevent an Achilles tear... because then he really would need surgery. 

The massage hurts, but in the good kind of way that Eddie knows will feel much better tomorrow. As an all arounder, Eddie competes on the lineups for all six events, which include vault, pommel horse, rings, parallel bars, high bar, and floor exercise. It’s pretty rare to compete all around in collegiate gymnastics, and only makes injury all the more likely. 

There are not that many NCAA men’s gymnastics programs left in the country, so to receive a full ride scholarship to Stanford, one of the most prestigious men’s gymnastics programs, is truly amazing, and Eddie never takes a single day for granted. Taking care of his body and focusing on academics have always been Eddie’s top priorities. 

Not that Eddie has never partied or dated… This is still college after all. He only parties in the off season; no alcohol will enter Eddie’s body during competition season, or dry season as he calls it. Dates and hookups are few and far between, as he is always so busy with school and gym. It’s hard to find someone who understands that he just doesn’t have the time to go out or that he can’t just “skip practice” like some flings have asked him to. The only other people who understand his life are other athletes, so that’s who he prefers to limit his dating pool to. That has only made it even harder to find someone because there are not that many male athletes that are out like Eddie is. 

Eddie came out to his team during his freshman year. It was really hard for him because he was afraid of how his team would react. Being on a team with a bunch of well-toned and fit attractive guys, he was worried that these guys would be afraid to change in the locker room with him or that he would be constantly checking them out (which Eddie  _ knows _ is literally not how being gay works at all… it’s not like he is attracted to every guy he lays eyes on but still). He was nervous that they wouldn’t accept him, but being on a collegiate team is kind of like having a built in family, and he should have known that they would show him nothing but support and love. 

Sam is doing a bang up job, digging into his Achilles tendons before moving to the arches of his feet. The lotion honestly feels gross mixing with the chalk left on his skin from practice, and Eddie can’t wait to be all fixed up so he can shower and put comfy clothes on. His practice clothes are totally uncomfortable, especially if he wears them too long. The tank is like a second skin and his shorts are, let’s just say,  _ accurately named _ . He feels practically naked on the table, but luckily there are only a couple of his other teammates in the training room.

That is until the door swings open with a bang, and Eddie’s eyes widen when he sees who it is. Eddie only knows one person who could make that much noise when entering a room, and it is none other than star pitcher and baseball captain Richie Tozier. He’s got on those tight baseball pants that make his ass look annoyingly perfect and his hat on backward smashed over his curls like some douchey frat bro, but Eddie’s heart rate involuntarily picks up anyway, and he scowls down at his chest like that will make it slow down. 

His teammate, Alex, on the table next to him looks and reaches over to shove his shoulder with a smirk. Eddie’s eyes grow wide, pushing his hand away and throwing Alex a look that screams  _ DUDE SHUT THE FUCK UP _ . God, he is never telling his teammates anything ever again.

Freshman year he made the drunken mistake of telling his teammates that he thought Richie Tozier was hot, and his crush only escalated when he found out Richie was bi just a short time after. Now even after two years, every time he sees Richie and one of his teammates is around, they totally give him shit and are extremely obvious about it; Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if Richie has noticed. 

“Sup, bitches!” Richie yells as he struts into the training room, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Eddie and breaking into a huge smile.

“Tozier, language! I will kick you right out of this training room,” Sam says, trying to fight off a laugh and attempting to scold Richie as she continues to dig her thumbs into Eddie’s arches. 

Richie doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie as he replies with that cocky half smile thing he does that makes Eddie melt and the wave of his hand, “Sam, you love me too much, you would never,” and then to Eddie, “Damn Kaspbrak, those shorts are really doing something for me… like  _ yowza _ .”

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, trying to stop the corners of his mouth from tugging into a smile and the blush from creeping across his cheeks. Alex’s eyes widen and his smile grows, and Eddie decides he is going to kill him when they leave. 

“Richie, do not hit on my gymnasts. Go do your shoulder exercises! You want to be able to pitch tomorrow don't you?” Sam points to an area far from Eddie, and he once again owes her his life. Richie throws a wink his way before moving to start his physical therapy. It’s just Eddie’s luck that the baseball team has the same trainer as the gym team. Sam squeezes Eddie’s foot to get his attention. “Sorry about him, Eddie.”

He turns to smile at her, shaking his head. “No Sam, don’t start apologizing for Richie Tozier. You’ll never have the time for anything else,” he says loud enough that he knows Richie can hear. He turns back around in time to hear Richie’s bark of a laugh, and Eddie presses his face into the pillow before anyone can see the smile threatening to split his face in half. 

Sam gives Eddie’s calves one last squeeze before she has him turn over and sit up to do some ankle exercises. He sits up and scoots to the end of the table, and he ends up having a perfect view of Richie’s now shirtless back, his muscles stretching and moving across his broad shoulders as he does shoulder exercises with a theraband. He is so transfixed on the way Richie’s shoulder blades wing out with each pull that he doesn’t hear Sam talking to him until she snaps right in his face.

“Hey, Eddie, where’d you go?” she asks with an amused smirk on her face. Sam looks over her shoulder to see what had his attention and turns back with a quiet laugh. “Ahh, I see… you two are exhausting, let me tell you.”

Eddie shakes himself out of his  _ trance _ , for lack of a better word, with a light blush splashed across his freckles. He puts on his most neutral face and crosses his arms over his chest. “I have no idea what you are referring to, Samantha.” 

Sam throws her head back and laughs loud enough to catch Richie’s attention. “Don’t ‘Samantha’ me, Kaspbrak. You two are about as subtle as wrecking balls, and you’re stinking up my training room with all your pheromones. Now get off my table and take Alex Laughs-A-Lot with you.”

Richie meets his eyes with his eyebrows in his hairline and his trademark smirk, and Eddie turns bright red before dropping his head into his hands with a groan. Alex has not stopped laughing for several minutes now, and Eddie resolves to no longer be friends with him. Teammate bond and brotherhood be damned. 

Eddie quickly gathers up his gym bag and slides his shoes on haphazardly before shuffling away, practically shoving Alex out the door as he continues to laugh. “God, I hate you so much, dude,” Eddie grumbles under his breath, unable to hold back a smile despite how mortified he is. 

A grin splits across Alex’s face, his eyes wide with mirth and a glint of something slightly devious. “Eddie, Tozier totally wants you. You guys have been doing this shit for like two years now. It’s so obvious.”

Eddie scoffs like he doesn’t know what Alex is talking about and he tells him as much. Alex hits him with a look that says  _ really, dude  _ and shakes his head. “Oh come on, Eddie. The looks. The flirting. The sexual tension in the training room that literally anyone around could cut with a knife… you know, like one of those cool cakes that looks absolutely nothing like a cake.”

Eddie huffs out a quiet laugh, a light blush creeping back into his cheeks. “Alex, you are way off, man. There’s no way Richie Tozier is into me for real. He just jokes… he’s like that with everybody.”

“Nuh uh, not everybody. I’m telling you Eddie, he wants your dick. I’m going to make sure the baseball team is at our meet this weekend, and then you can finally talk to him or, you know,  _ not talk  _ if you catch my drift.” Alex winks and is already on his phone, texting at the speed of light. 

Eddie tries to pry the phone away from him, but he raises it above his head and quickly hits send before Eddie can jump up to snatch it. He huffs out a breath and hangs his head in defeat, knowing what’s done is done, and that he needs to kick ass at the meet this weekend.

……….

It’s Friday night and the roar of the crowd is deafening. Eddie is last to go on vault, Stanford’s last event of the meet. If he makes this vault,  _ if he just lands on his fucking feet,  _ Stanford will win tonight. Eddie can feel the pressure, but he has always thrived in high pressure situations. After he started going to therapy in high school to help ease his anxiety, Eddie learned that adrenaline fuels him; gymnastics is like a constant dose of adrenaline. Being brave and doing things he never thought he would be able to do gives him such a rush, and that rush helps curb his anxiety to the point where he can do anything he puts his mind to. Well, almost anything. He still hasn’t been able to talk to Richie the way he wants, but he swears he’s working up to that.

Eddie dips his hands and feet in chalk and looks down at the measuring tape lined next to the runway to double check that he is starting in the right spot. He salutes the judge, signaling that it’s time to do this. He’s got one shot at this. Hit this vault and Stanford wins. 

He takes a deep breath and barrels toward the vault table. He feels invincible, the trusty adrenaline pumping through veins. He flips and twists through the air, getting more height than he thinks he ever has. He has plenty of time to prepare for the landing. He opens his arms to slow down his twist and his flip, spotting the mat where he is going to plant his feet. He bends his legs on impact, trying to absorb the landing and not jar his ankles for the thousandth time. He doesn’t budge; he sticks the landing! And even better than that, his ankles are not  _ beyond fucked _ ! 

He salutes the judge with a nod and runs back to his teammates with the biggest smile on his face. He pulls a freeze-frame-from-the-end-of-The-Breakfast-Club and pumps his fist into the air as his teammates crash into him, pulling him into hugs with yells and cheers. The fans start to cheer, chanting  _ EDDIE! EDDIE! EDDIE!,  _ and there is one voice that Eddie can hear above all the others. He looks up from the group huddle and scans the crowd, searching for the baseball team. He spots a few friendly faces among the crowd. His childhood best friend and captain of the crew team, Bill, and Mike from the football team, whooping loudly. Track star Ben and Bev the volleyball babe, pressed against each other as they cheer. Stan with the best slow golf clap Eddie’s ever seen. He finally finds the baseball players in the middle of the arena, and standing amongst them, lifting an obnoxious hot pink sign above his head, is the one and only Richie Tozier. Richie beams at Eddie as they lock eyes, and Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth laughing when he reads Richie’s sign.

In Richie’s barely legible scrawl and what Eddie can only assume to be bombs of glitter, the sign says  **_tryna tap that kASSpbrak! call me?? (650) 555-7424_ **

The hoots and hollers of both the baseball team and gymnastics team fill the gym, and Eddie blushes a deep red but can’t help the laughs that keep spilling from his lips. He’s sure it’s the adrenaline still pumping through his body that is not causing him to freak out. Once it wears off, he will feel the full force of the situation, including the inevitable pain in his ankles, but for now he is just deliriously happy. Happy that he hit all six of his routines for the night, happy that Richie actually came, happy that he might actually… like him too? Richie has always flirted with Eddie, but he just assumed he was joking… could he really have meant it this whole time?

Awards fly by in what feels like a matter of minutes, and Eddie catches Richie’s eye multiple times throughout. Each time, Richie is beaming so brightly at him, and Eddie is so lost in his eyes that he barely hears that he won all around. His collective score from all six events was higher than the other all arounders from the other teams, so he’s collecting a first place AA win on top of his six other awards from the night. Well seven, if you include Richie Tozier, and Eddie totally does. 

After the meet, the Stanford gymnasts all shuffle over to tables that have been lined up for autographs. This is so the fans can get a poster of the team and get autographs from each team member. This mostly caters to their families and younger fans, young gymnasts aspiring to be just like them. This has always been Eddie’s favorite part; he remembers what it was like to be little Eddie, fascinated by the way the gymnasts flipped on the TV during the Olympics, and then at the first college meet he ever attended when a new life goal formed. 

The gymnasts sit at the table, Sharpies placed in front of each of their seats as a line already starts to form. The fans move down the line, and Eddie smiles up at each one, especially the kids and signs their posters with his curvy signature. An assembly line of posters begins to move down the table, each gymnast signing while each respective recipient follows their poster. Basically, it’s a meet and greet for the Stanford gymnasts.

Eddie’s teammates at the front of the line are falling behind, causing a pile up of posters to sign once they finally get to Eddie. In his scramble to sign every poster in front of him, Eddie fails to notice the tall, lanky figure standing right in front of him. That is, until Alex elbows him in the side and a hot pink sign slides onto the table.

He quickly looks up with wide eyes to see Richie, smirking down at him with a ridiculously attractive crooked smile that makes Eddie melt into his chair. He’s not wearing his glasses. Eddie loves his glasses, but  _ holy shit, he looks fucking hot without them. _ “Hey, would you maybe wanna sign my poster, superstar?”

Eddie turns a slightly muted shade of the poser itself. He flashes Richie a slow blink and looks up at him through his eyelashes, uncapping his Sharpie with his teeth to write  **_Tozier, you’re a dumbass, but a cute dumbass. This sign is obnoxious, and yet I still want to keep it anyway. Eddie K ⛤ (650) 555-3377_ **

When he looks up to see Richie’s eyes scan over the words and his face breaks into the biggest smile he’s ever seen, he can’t help but giggle. Richie puts his hands on the table, leaning down into Eddie’s space. “You think I’m cute, Kaspbrak?” 

Eddie may or may not bat his eyelashes just a little, tilting a little closer into Richie’s atmosphere. “I think you’re a dumbass, Tozier.” He pauses and shakes his head amusedly, grumbling, “But apparently I have a thing for dumbasses.” 

Richie laughs that great, sexy laugh of his before he is interrupted by one of Eddie’s teammates. “Eddie! Come on man, you’re holding up the line! Tell Tozier to beat it!” 

Eddie groans and blushes up to the roots of his hair, and grimaces up at Richie. “Wait for me, will you? I’m almost done here.” He rolls up the pink poster and shoves it into his gym bag.

“Of course, Eds. I’ll be right over there. Attend to your fans, superstar,” he winks before walking away to lounge in the stands while Eddie finishes up signatures. 

He blows through the rest of the posters as quickly as he can, while still taking his time to talk to the kids. After he’s done, he caps his Sharpie and gathers up his gear, heading to the locker room to shower and change. Once he’s nice and clean in an old Stanford Gymnastics T-shirt and some sweats, he walks over to where Richie is--  _ god dammit is that..?--  _ where Richie is apparently talking to Alex.

“... and then he like,  _ totally ate shit _ , completely biffed it.” Alex throws his head back laughing and grabs Richie’s arm for support. “Oh my god, it was hilarious. I mean, once we knew he was okay, of course.” 

Richie softly giggles along to Alex’s animated storytelling, but when his eyes find Eddie’s, his whole face brightens up, eyes shining and teeth flashing. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite Stanford gymnast! I mean, no offense, Alex.”

Alex just laughs as Eddie steps up to Richie, the perfect height for him to rest his chin on the top of Eddie’s head when Richie pulls him in for a hug. 

“Are you guys over here talking shit about me?” Eddie giggles into Richie’s chest, breathing in his smell, which is  _ so fucking good  _ that Eddie’s head spins a little. 

Richie pulls back, not far enough to leave Eddie’s hold around his waist, just far enough to place a hand on his chest to feign shock, a little gasp escaping his lips. “Whatever are you implying, Spaghetti?”

Eddie scrunches his nose and looks up, literally has to tilt his head back, at Richie. “Spaghetti??”

“Yeah! Yah know… Eddie Spaghetti…” Richie grins down at him, “it rhymes.” 

Eddie scoffs, but he can’t hold back the way the corners of his lips tug up. “Oh god, just no. Please don’t call me that.” 

Richie huffs out a breathy laugh, pulls him back in tight, and squeezes, one of his hands moving to run through Eddie’s hair at the nape of his neck. Eddie totally melts into it. “Plus, we were not talking shit about you. Well, I wasn’t anyway... Alex, here, was just telling me about a time you flew off the bar, which honestly sounds pretty scary, so please don’t ever do that while I’m watching, okay?”

Richie presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead and another into his hair. Eddie nuzzles into Richie’s chest, hiding the blush and the smile that take over his face. “Okay, I’ll try my best.” 

Eddie pulls back to look at Richie, who reaches down to tuck a drying curl behind Eddie’s ear. “So, superstar… got any plans right now..? Oh that’s probably a dumb question… I’m sure you are going to go celebrate your big win with your teammates or something...” he trails off at the end, sounding a little more shy than Eddie’s ever heard him. Eddie smirks up at him, a deep blush spreading under the frames of Richie’s glasses that are slipping down his nose.

Eddie reaches up to gently push Richie’s glasses back into place before replying, “Yeah, I’ve got plans to go celebrate…” Eddie pauses, eyes flicking down to Richie’s lips and licking his own. “With you, if you are up for it.”

Richie is staring at Eddie with wide eyes and lips slightly parted, before his face splits into a Cheshire cat-like grin. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist and, to Eddie’s surprise, lifts him up and spins him around. Eddie shrieks and quickly wraps his arms around Richie’s shoulders to hold on for dear life, tucking his face into Richie’s neck. He can’t hold back his laugh as he squeals, “Richie! Oh my god, put me down!” and then, with a gasp, as an afterthought, “You’re gonna hurt your shoulder!”

Richie giggles as he sets Eddie back on solid ground and watches as Eddie attempts to straighten out his appearance, smoothing down his clothes and his hair. There’s a light flush across his face again, and Eddie can’t get enough. He clears his throat before saying with his signature smirk, “Nahh, Kaspbrak… you weigh absolutely nothing. I could easily toss you around.”

Eddie goes scarlet at the implications of his words, but he cannot stop himself from picturing Richie pinning him up against a wall or throwing him down onto the mattress. He looks down at his feet and rocks onto the balls of his feet before dropping down again. Richie reaches up to rub the back of his neck, so uncharacteristically nervous it’s a little jarring. 

“So, umm, what do you want to do? We can go out for a drink?” Richie leans in to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “I have a fake, so we totally can.” 

Eddie laughs and is surprised to hear that he is actually older than Richie. He definitely wouldn’t have guessed that, but for some unknown reason, it makes warmth bloom through his chest. “No, I don’t drink during season, even if I am old enough to go to the bars now.” 

Richie looks away and plays up his best thinking face, even going as far as to rub along his jawline. “Hmmm, okay… well, we can get food? Or watch a movie or someth--”

“Thought you were tryna tap this K _ ass _ pbrak,” Eddie cuts him off with a smirk of his own. 

Richie chokes on nothing and stammers over his words, turning bright red, “Well, I mean, umm, yeah of course I would want to take you back to my place, but like, only if you want to do that, and I don’t want you to feel, uh, pressured or uncomfortable or anything, and--”

“RICHIE!” Eddie is laughing, practically doubled over from the panicked look on Richie’s face. “Take a breath, man. I’m totally joking.”

“O-oh umm okay… sorry if I made you uncomfortable… I’ll just go fuck myself.”

“No, Richie, wait!” Eddie reaches out to grab Richie’s wrist before he can pull away. He takes a deep breath and tries to put on a more serious face. He wants Richie to hear him and know he is serious. “I am actually serious. Do you want to take me to your place? Because I would really love it if you took me to your place…” he says, intertwining his fingers with Richie’s. 

Richie searches his eyes to make sure that is really what Eddie wants, and he must find what he is looking for because he lets out a breath, smiles big, and tugs Eddie’s hand, pulling him toward the exit of the arena.

……….

Richie drives them back to the baseball house, assuring Eddie that none of his teammates will be home since they all went out after the gymnastics meet. Eddie looks down at their joined hands over the center console and bites his lip to hold back his thousandth smile of the night. Eddie’s hands are still slightly chalky and his callouses rub against Richie’s, but it’s nice. It’s perfect. Closing his eyes and resting his head back against the seat, he brings Richie’s hand up to his lips, pressing soft little kisses to the back of it. Eddie can’t see it, but Richie gets the softest look on his face, genuine heart eyes for this angel of a boy in front of him. 

“Eddie, I hope you know that I am interested in way more than a pump and dump.” Eddie cringes in disgust at his phrasing. “Like.. I’ve had a crush on you for like two years now, so honestly, I will take whatever I can get with you. If you do not want to have sex, like tonight or even ever, I am totally okay with that. I just want to be around you… I just want to know you,” Richie rambles out, the bright red in his cheeks evident even in the dark of the car. 

Eddie’s eyes popped open right when Richie said his name, so he was able to see the inklings of doubt and self consciousness written all over Richie’s face. He rubs his thumb across Richie’s knuckles reassuringly. 

“You’ve had a crush on me since freshman year?” Eddie asks quietly, his thoughts stuck on that one sentence like a skipping record.

Richie glances over at Eddie sheepishly, “Well, yeah. I mean,  _ look at you. _ ”

Eddie feels warm at his words, giving his hand a little squeeze. “Richie, I like you, too. Of course I do… how could I not? I have pretty much since the day we met, and I really want to know you, too. But I also  _ want you.  _ So we are totally having sex tonight. I’m tired of waiting. I’ve pictured this enough times; I want the real thing.”

The radio is soft in the background, Matt Healy’s voice serenading them, singing  _ babe, you look so cool _ , and when Eddie looks over at Richie, he does look so cool, with his eyes bright and lip pulled between his teeth. He can’t believe this is happening. For two years now he has wanted this, and it’s finally real. Richie likes him back. Baseball captain Richie Tozier feels the same as he does. He smiles a small smile for himself and for what’s to come.

Richie lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and his face splits into the biggest, goofiest, most adorable grin Eddie has ever seen. “You’ve pictured us having sex, Eds?”

Eddie drops Richie’s hand to hide his face in his own, but not before Richie sees the pink blush in the glow of the streetlights. He groans, a smile forcing its way onto his face despite the heat rolling off of his cheeks. Richie rests his discarded hand on Eddie’s leg, and his fingers lightly brush his inner thigh, making Eddie’s chest flutter. He peeks an eye out from behind his fingers to see Richie with the dopiest look on his face.

Eddie tugs at his bottom lip between his teeth and steels himself, a challenge written across his face. “Yeah, I have. What’s it to you, Tozier? You gonna do something about it?”

Now it’s Richie’s turn to groan, his head falling back against the headrest, just barely able to keep his eyes from falling shut at Eddie’s words. Eddie feels his dick twitch at Richie’s groan, his mind now flooding his thoughts with the other sounds Richie will make in bed. If he wasn’t driving right now, Eddie would take him into the backseat right here, right now. He notices the way Richie’s fiery eyes flick over to meet his before he’s speeding up a bit to fly through a yellow light. 

The way they fly across the intersection makes Eddie’s breath hitch, grasping for the safety handle above his head and the strap of the seatbelt across his chest. 

“Jesus, Tozier, try not to kill me first, would yah? I’m trying to get laid here, not laid out on the asphalt!” 

“I’m sorry! I only have so much self control, Kaspbrak. There is a hot little dish next to me ready to be devoured… and I’m fucking  _ starving _ .”

That last bit comes out a little like a growl, and Eddie’s now hardening dick fills his sweats at the low grumble of Richie’s voice. He is hoping they get to Richie’s place soon, because he wants him and he wants him  _ now _ . 

They finally pull up to Richie’s house, and they scramble out of the car and to each other. They barely make it to the front door when Richie pulls Eddie in, their lips crashing together in a heated kiss. Richie walks forward and pushes Eddie up against the front door, their mouths moving together in sync. Eddie wraps his arms around his neck as Richie licks into his mouth, and he melts against the door. If Richie wasn’t holding him up, he’s pretty sure his legs would give out, partly from the soreness from his meet, but mostly from that thing Richie just did with his tongue. 

Richie pulls back from the kiss, only to drag his lips from Eddie’s mouth to his neck, giving Eddie a chance to suck in a breath. He whimpers at the way Richie bites and licks and sucks at his neck. He’s losing his shit; he’s never felt like this with any of his other hookups before. It’s like he’s not totally in control of his body, or his mind for that matter. His thoughts are screaming  _ Richie, Richie, Richie _ when Richie licks up to nibble on his ear.

“Richie, please,” he whines, completely breathless. “Inside, Rich. Bed. Please, I need you.”

Richie doesn’t dare pull away, trying to work the key into the lock by feel alone. He moves his mouth back up to Eddie’s once he finally gets the key turned, and he wraps his strong arms around Eddie’s waist when the door falls away. 

Richie surges forward, causing Eddie to blindly stumble backwards, clinging to Richie’s shoulders. They don’t break the kiss, still licking into each other’s mouths as Rich kicks the door shut with his foot and drops the keys on the floor. Richie moves in the direction of his bedroom, stepping on the backs of his shoes to pull them off as he walks. 

It’s tough for them to kiss like this, with such a prominent height difference. Eddie is walking on releve in shaky steps backward, and Richie is kind of hunched over him, pulling at Eddie’s waist to arch into his. Richie finally has enough of this. He wraps his big, strong hands around the backs of Eddie’s thighs, right under his ass, and lifts him into the air. Eddie gasps into Richie’s mouth and wraps his legs around Richie’s waist, tightening his grip on his broad shoulders that make Eddie feel so many things. His erection is pressed into Richie’s stomach, and he might be embarrassed that he is already hard as a rock if he didn’t feel Richie’s equally as hard dick pressed right against his ass. 

He inhales sharply as Richie adjusts him in his arms, bouncing him up to get a better grip under his ass. The friction against Richie causes a shiver of pleasure throughout Eddie’s body, and his thighs grip Richie tighter to chase the feeling. He is now at an angle where Richie has to tilt his head back to kiss Eddie, and that just lights Eddie on fire more. 

They finally make it to Richie’s bedroom, and Eddie breaks their kiss to bite at Richie’s bottom lip with his teeth. Richie groans and tosses Eddie down from the side of the bed onto the mattress. Eddie lets out a breathy laugh, the air leaving his lungs as he bounces across the comforter. Richie turns to lock his door (in case his roommates happen to come home while they are  _ preoccupied _ ), and he eyes Eddie from the door. 

“Strip, Kaspbrak,” he says in a low, sultry voice that cuts through Eddie like a hot knife through butter. 

Eddie quickly sits up, legs hanging off the side of the bed, to pull his shirt over his head. He can hardly tear his eyes away from Richie and the downright lust in his eyes. He’s happy he decided to forgo putting boxer briefs on under his sweats because Richie just about loses his shit when Eddie’s leaking cock slaps up against his stomach. 

“Fucking hell, Kaspbrak. I think you have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen… holy shit.” Richie really does look like he’s starving for Eddie, the way his eyes travel down his naked body lighting up every nerve ending in his body. 

“Mmm, Richie, please take your clothes off. I want to see you,” he pouts, and Richie can’t stop himself from dropping his knee onto the bed beside Eddie, pushing him to lay back flat and pressing his fully clothed body into Eddie’s.

“God, could you be any cuter, Eds? Trying to kill me over here,” he breathes into Eddie’s mouth, licking behind his teeth as Eddie lets out another high pitched whine. He starts tugging at Richie’s clothes, trying to get them off himself.

“Off, off, get these off.” Richie sits back with a quiet chuckle, pulling his shirt over his head before dropping down to suck at Eddie’s neck again. He hums into the skin there, sending vibrations through Eddie’s throat. 

“You’re cute when you’re bossy, Kaspbrak, but tonight, I’m in charge,” he growls, and Eddie’s eyes roll back, letting out a moan at Richie’s words. He is wondering what Richie has in mind, a million different scenarios flashing in his head, when Richie pulls back to unzip his jeans and step out of them. Eddie pops his head up, leaning back on his elbows to watch. He couldn’t possibly have been prepared for the sight he is graced with. Richie Fucking Tozier. Naked. Standing in front of him with the biggest cock he has ever had the pleasure of seeing in person. He’s like a fucking Adonis, and Eddie can’t handle it.

“Oh my fucking god, Tozier… how did you fail to mention that you have such a big fucking dick? Like holy shit, is it going to fit? You better fucking stretch me out good before you try to put that thing in me.” Eddie almost sounds angry, but really he’s just so fucking turned on he doesn’t even know what to do. Just the thought of being stretched out on that thick cock makes Eddie’s mouth water.

“Oh, come on, Eds. You’re over exaggerating...” 

Eddie looks at Richie incredulously. When has Richie Tozier ever been fucking  _ humble _ ? “Richie, what the  _ fuck _ are you talking about? You’ve got the biggest dick I’ve ever seen and it’s making me a little dizzy. Don’t start being modest now, dude.” 

Richie looks like he’s holding back a laugh. “ _ Dude _ ? Did you just call me  _ dude _ with our dicks out?” 

Eddie scoffs. “That is totally beside the point! You’ve got a huge cock, and I need it in me  _ yesterday _ .”

Richie lunges forward, tackling Eddie to the bed. They both laugh before bringing their lips together in a kiss much softer than any of the others. Richie pulls back and helps Eddie scootch up onto the bed to lay against the pillows. Normally Richie would take his time, worshipping every inch of Eddie, and maybe teasing him a little, too, but they are both too impatient for that right now. Richie wants to be inside Eddie as much as Eddie wants Richie to be inside him. 

He reaches into the top drawer of his night stand, grabbing the lube and a condom, and he immediately gets to work. He dribbles the lube onto his fingers and reaches down to circle his finger around Eddie’s rim, not wasting any time before he’s pushing the tip of his finger into Eddie. Eddie gasps at the sensation, and Richie leans forward to kiss at his neck, his chest, anywhere he can reach. He slowly pushes in deeper, one knuckle at a time. Eddie clenches around him and hums when Richie starts thrusting his finger in and out. Eddie tries to squirm, but Richie throws an arm over his hips to pin them down to the bed. 

“Nuh uh, Kaspbrak. Don’t try to fuck yourself on my finger. Just let me.”

It’s not long before Richie has worked his way up to three fingers, and Eddie is struggling not to push back against Richie’s hand. The way Richie’s fingers are stretching him open feels so good, and Eddie just wants to chase the feeling. He brushes the tips of his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, and Eddie arches his back off the bed with a moan. 

“Richie, oh my god, fuck, I-I’m ready. I’m ready, Rich. Please.”

Richie pulls his fingers out of Eddie and wipes them against his comforter. Eddie would be grossed out if not for the fact that he is too horny to care about anything except Richie Tozier’s dick. Richie flops to the side and lays on his back. Eddie leans up on his elbow to look at him as Richie puts his hands behind his head, his eyes shining.

“Come on, Kaspbrak. Come get this dick. You want it, you work for it,” Richie says as he raises an eyebrow in a challenge.

Richie’s words should not be affecting him as much as they are, but he is on fire as he throws a leg over Richie’s hips and grabs the condom to rip it open with his teeth. He slides it onto Richie’s cock, and Richie hisses at the contact. Eddie grabs the lube and lathers up Richie’s dick, giving him a few extra pumps of his hand before sitting up on his knees. 

He reaches around to help guide Richie’s cock into him, slowly lowering himself and taking his time. “Hhh-holy shit, R-rich.” His head lolls back; it’s too much work to hold his own head up right now. The feel of Richie’s hot, thick cock sliding into him is on just the right side of  _ too much _ . 

He heaves out a breath once he’s bottomed out, his ass pressed snug against Richie’s hip. Richie’s fingertips are digging into the muscles around Eddie’s hips, his nails leaving little crescents in the skin there. 

“You good, Kaspbrak?” Richie breathes out, trying his hardest not to move, even though he desperately wants to thrust up into Eddie.

Eddie takes a deep breath, which makes way to a gasp when he shifts his hips a little. “Nngh, yeah,  _ oh my fucking god _ , I feel so, mmm, full. Okay, okay yeah, I’m, I’m good.” 

He slowly lifts himself up, feeling the drag over every inch of Richie’s cock, before dropping back down with the most whorish moan Eddie has ever heard himself make. He repeats the same stroke, slowly rising up and quickly thrusting down. He feels like he is impaling himself on Richie’s dick, able to get in so deep in this position. He starts to ride him in earnest, bouncing on his cock when Richie moans, low and deep, and moves his hands to Eddie’s thighs to get his attention. 

“Eds, uhh, straighten your legs.” He bites his lip and throws his head back into the pillows.

It takes Eddie a second to process that fact that Richie is saying something to him. “Uhh, what?”

Richie groans again and grips at his thighs tighter. “Straighten your legs, you know mmm, out to the sides.”

It clicks in Eddie’s mind what Richie wants, and he smirks down at him after a particularly good thrust. “You mean like this?”

Eddie extends his legs out from his straddle around Richie’s hips, out to the sides in a perfect middle split. Richie reaches back up for Eddie’s hips and just about loses his shit when Eddie continues to bounce up and down on his cock. 

“Oh my god, now I can cross ‘Get Eddie Kaspbrak to do the splits on my dick’ off of my bucket list,  _ holy fuck, _ ” he chokes out, his breath caught in his throat as he looks up at Eddie who lets out a breathy laugh, his face and chest flushed a breathtaking red. 

“Yeah Tozier,” a smirk grows on his face, “now you’ve got me stretched out in more ways than one.” Richie can’t help but moan at Eddie’s words, and Eddie wants to swallow the noise he just made because  _ holy shit that was hot.  _ He stops bouncing and drops down to kiss Richie, pushing his tongue past Richie’s lips. It’s only been a few minutes since he last kissed Richie, but he already misses his mouth against his. He tucks his legs back in around Richie’s hips, and without breaking the kiss, he grinds his hips into Richie’s and starts to bounce on his cock once again.

He pushes against Richie’s chest to sit back up, trying to get a better angle. On one particular thrust, he hits his prostate head on, and a noise kind of like a scream is ripped from Eddie’s throat. “Fuck! Oh my god Richie, your cock is so, mmph, so good.” 

He hits his prostate a few more times before pain shoots up through his ankles, causing him to wince.

“Shit Eddie, are you alright?” Richie tightens his grip on Eddie’s hips and looks up at him, concern written all over his face. “Do you need to stop?”

“No! No no I don’t want to stop! It’s just…” Another sharp pain shoots through his ankles and up his shins. “As much as I’d love to ride your dick into the sunset, my ankles are shit… and unless you want to call Sam over here to tape my ankles, we’re gonna have to flip.”

Richie lets out a breath and smirks up at him. “Oh, I’ll show you how to flip, Kaspbrak.”

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, a smile taking over his face. “Ha! Okay, Rich, like you could ever show me how to fl--”

He’s cut off with a yelp when Richie throws himself forward, somehow getting his legs under himself and getting Eddie onto his back, all without pulling out. When he lands at the foot of the bed, Richie drives into him, and it’s like the wind is knocked out of him. He gasps, inhaling sharply as Richie starts to fuck him into the mattress. Hard.

“Holy fuck, Rich.” Eddie reaches up, gripping onto the vertical bars at the foot of the bed, desperate to hold onto something just to keep him grounded. Richie manhandling him is just about the hottest thing he has ever experienced, and his head floats a bit from it.

Eddie looks up at Richie and the way his curls fall around his face as he thrusts into Eddie.  _ God, he’s fucking beautiful _ , Eddie can’t help but think. Just as he’s about to say something, Richie gets this mischievous grin on his face. Richie must see something just outside of Eddie’s eyeline because he slows down his thrust to reach behind Eddie’s head. 

“Stick your arms through the bars.” 

Eddie immediately does what he tells him to. The control Richie has over him right now is sending a rush of pleasure through him, his spine arching off of the bed. Richie grabs something, and it clangs against the metal bars of the bed, the vibrations of the sound shooting through Eddie’s skull. 

“Open your hands,” Richie says, no,  _ demands _ . 

Eddie opens his hands as Richie puts something cold and heavy into his hands. Eddie tilts his head back to look at his hands and finds that Richie has placed his fucking baseball bat in them. 

“Now, don’t drop it. Hold on tight, Eds.” Richie grabs the top horizontal bar of the footboard and uses the leverage to angle his hips just right as he picks up the speed of his thrusts into Eddie. 

Eddie immediately wants to wrap his arms around Richie’s shoulders as he drills into his prostate over and over again. He’s already forgotten the baseball bat, so the resulting crash of metal on metal when Eddie tries to pull his arms through the bars reverberates through Eddie’s arms and the rest of his body. His teeth fucking vibrate in his skull, and the sound is loud enough to have probably injured his eardrums permanently, but he couldn’t care less. Richie is fucking him just right, and the vibration caused a new, but weirdly good sensation to shoot up his spine. 

Richie just laughs down at him, fucking into him impossibly harder. “Now, now, Eds. You can’t move, you see. It’s like a dog with a big stick trying to go through the doggy door. It ain’t happening. You just have to lay there and take it.”

Eddie grips onto the bat tighter, Richie’s thrusts hitting his prostate nearly every time. “Mmph, Rich, ahh, I’m so close. Please, please touch me.”

Eddie has been a good boy all night, so Richie obliges, reaching down to wrap a hand around Eddie’s neglected, leaking cock. He uses his precum to slick Eddie up, to stroke Eddie in time with his thrusts. Eddie loses his breath, and his eyes roll back into his head at the slide of Richie’s calloused hand up and down his cock. It doesn’t take long for him to come, dropping the bat to the floor as pleasure floods through every ounce of his body. His toes curl as his come spills over Richie’s hand and onto his stomach, the sound of the bat hitting the floor still ringing in his ears. 

Richie fucks into him harder and faster, and Eddie whines a little from the overstimulation. “Rich, nngh, come on. Come, please come.” He sucks in a breath, and he whispers low, “I want you to come inside me.”

That’s what does it for Richie as he spills into the condom with the loudest moan, his jaw dropping open and his eyes squeezing shut. He drops his chin down to his chest as he inhales deeply, aftershocks still rolling through his body. He looks down at Eddie and smiles at how positively  _ wrecked _ he looks. 

“Holy fucking shit, Kaspbrak. What do you think? Will the judges give me a 10.0?” he asks, laughing at his own joke as he slowly pulls out of Eddie.

He whines at the loss, not quite ready for the emptiness he feels as Richie pulls away. He turns around to dispose of the condom in the trash can next to his night stand. He lets out a quiet laugh when he processes what Richie said. “Hmmm, I don’t know, Tozier. Your technique was a little off,” he says with a smirk.

Richie turns back and dramatically gasps, and Eddie rolls his eyes with another laugh. “Hey, my technique is flawless, Spaghetti. And obviously the execution was,” he gestures to the mess on Eddie’s stomach, “perfect, so I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

Eddie turns to hide his face in the comforter, but Richie pulls on his shoulder to lay him down on his back. There’s a light blush on his freckled cheeks, and he looks almost  _ shy _ . “I mean, it was a 10.0 for me.” He clears his throat before heading toward the bathroom, grabbing some washcloths and running them under the warm water. 

Eddie flushes at his words and the way they make him feel, all warm and gooey inside. Eddie moves back to the head of the bed to lay against the pillows when Richie comes back with the washcloths, and he must have taken out his contacts because he’s got his glasses on. He lays down next to Eddie and gently cleans the come and lube off of him, taking special care of him in a way that Eddie has never had with anyone before. 

He discards the washcloths in the hamper in the bathroom and returns to Eddie’s side, crawling under the covers with him. Richie fidgets, nervously shifting his glasses on his face in a way Eddie has seen him do hundreds of times. His nervousness seems completely out of place in the light of what they just did. “Umm, so Eds… we have a home game next weekend, and I may or may not have checked the gymnastics schedule and noticed you guys don’t have a meet or anything… I was just wondering if… oh I don't know, will you come?” 

He’s stuttering over his words and is so flustered; Eddie can’t help but find it adorable. Turns out there’s more to Richie than the ultra confident persona he puts on all the time. Eddie can’t wait to know more. 

A smirk grows across his face as their roles switch, and he confidently says, “I just did, but make me again and I will.”

Richie barks out a laugh, rolling back over on top of Eddie, pinning his arms above his head, fingers threading together. He connects their lips in a kiss, the perfect mix of sweet and spicy, and Eddie can’t stop from smiling into the kiss. 

“Oh Kaspbrak, you are so on.”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic comes at a tough time in the collegiate gymnastics world… many men’s gymnastics programs are being cut/losing funding so if y’all have men's gymnastics at your college please go support!! #SaveMensGymnastics 
> 
> please let me know what you think! i love reading your comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. <3
> 
> follow me on tumblr for more Reddie and IT content @no-she-wasnt-reddie :)


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